Darkness Desending
by PRO-Reader
Summary: My twist on Book Three takes a turn to the dark side as Eragon and Saphira find themselves entangled in the bitter roots of continental war.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Murtagh stood as straight as a board as Galbatorix's dark black eyes scrutinized his pained face. Murtagh counted the seconds that slinked by, but Galbatorix just sat on his throne like chair and stared him down with carefree indifference. A knowing smile pulled at his lips while beads of sweat pounded down Murtagh's face.

"I want to know, Murtagh," Galbatorix said while examining his fingernails, "why it is that you stand before me, completely unharmed, yet young Eragon is not. Please, I have all day, tell me a tale worth hearing." Even though he seemed untroubled, Galbatorix was pursuing a war upon Murtagh, trying to break the protective layer around his mind.

Murtagh bit back a sharp reply. One wrong remark and he would surly pay. The assault on his mind doubled in intensity, and Murtagh collapsed onto his knees consumed by the pain. Galbatorix's playful smile turned into a full grin as he tilted his head to the side.

"I'm waiting…" His voice echoed into the large throne room.

He couldn't tell, he wouldn't tell. If Galbatorix knew why he had let Eragon escape, because he was his brother, Murtagh didn't want to know how he would be punished. What had possessed him to let Eragon go? Why had he let _himself_ go? Did he think that there would be no repercussions?

"Murtagh!" Galbatorix's anger swelled and the attack on Murtagh's mind became unbearable. It was as if a mountain had crumbled onto his mind alone. Such utter suffering was tearing him apart. His eyesight began to blur until he went almost blind.

Murtagh's withering body twisted and turned on the floor. He clutched at his hair pulling on it. Finally, unable to contain such a torture, he curled into a ball to wait it out.

_Murtagh!_ Thorn cried as he sensed his agony, _Murtagh, what is it?_ The dragon roared from his cell. At their arrival Galbatorix had the two separated; Murtagh hadn't seen Thorn since.

_ No! _Murtagh screamed mentally, knowing that if the connection lasted much longer Thorn would soon feel his pain. Severing his link with Thorn, Murtagh returned his gaze to Galbatorix bitterly.

"Stop this," Murtagh muttered, gagging on his blood.

"Oh," Galbatorix chided with a horrible smirk on his face, "so you're going to make the rules? You seem to forget one tiny thing: I own you!"

As he snarled the last words Murtagh felt his body being thrown back a few feet. Galbatorix's fury overwhelmed Murtagh, and he rolled away desperately trying to escape his wrath. It was useless, though. Galbatorix had risen from his seat and stooped after Murtagh, dark eyes gleaming.

"I do so love these little talks we have, Murtagh. Perhaps, you will be kind enough to continue?" Galbatorix asked as though he were discussing the weather.

Murtagh rolled onto his side so that he didn't have to look at Galbatorix. Cynical laughter filled the room. "It is pointless to refuse. Give into me now, before I am forced to use a more, shall we say, unpleasant approach."

Murtagh's silence was quite obvious. The annoyance in Galbatorix's face was just a clear. Biting his lip, Galbatorix signaled to one of the two guards standing erect at the doors. He left deftly only to return with a dish full of crystal clear water. Galbatorix took the dish and propped Murtagh up before it.

"Come, let us see how proficient you are when it comes to scrying."

Murtagh considered refusing, but decided it would be best to just give in to such a trivial request. "Who, my lord?"

"Hmm, how about...Thorn?" Galbatorix watched Murtagh intently, waiting for a wavering of stamina.

Murtagh just took the bowl. With a few whispered words the water formed a picture. At first, Murtagh just observed as impassively as possible. Thorn was hunched over in a dungeon, chained to a wall by neck and legs. Every once and a while a cloud of hot steam would emit from his nostrils. Thorn was still too young to breathe fire. It hurt Murtag to watch, but even the slightest sign of weakness would be a signal to Galbatorix.

"I would warn Thorn to be careful, Murtagh," Galbatorix counseled. "He is, after all, a juvenile dragon, and he is also very alone. Who knows what might happen were he to be attacked."

Murtagh's eyes widened at the implied meaning. His thoughts reached out to Thorn, but they were too late. A black shadow swept over Murtagh's view. Shruikan was upon Thorn in no time. The red dragon, as brave a fighter as he was, was reduced to cowering in the corner of his cell, whimpering at the might of the black dragon. Murtagh forced away the aches in his body. He couldn't let Thorn endure for his stupidity.

"You wish to speak, Murtagh?" Galbatorix knew much more then he lent on.

Summoning all the courage that he possibly could, Murtagh gazed up at Galbatorix regretfully. "I failed to capture Eragon, my lord. He was a formidable opponent…"

The retelling of his failure was one experience Murtagh did not wish to ever have again. Galbatorix listened with such a look that words failed Murtagh once or twice. He retold his duel with Eragon, his brother's defeat, even Eragon's weaknesses, the secret of their birth, and finally, of his younger brother's convincing argument. When the tale was finished Galbatorix just sidled back to his seat. Murtagh waited for his punishment.

After closing his eyes and meditating on the matter, Galbatorix responded. "I can see why you were nervous to retell your failure. I am not devoid of sympathy, Murtagh. I understand why you let you brother go. You love him, and I think, you thought I would do him harm, but I assure you that is not my intent."

"Come and sit." Galbatorix beckoned to Murtagh to sit beside him. "I must admit, I expected better control over your emotions, but you are young." Murtagh flinched, preparing for a beating. "I hope you will see my opinion in the matter wisely."

"Eragon is surrounded by people who wish to control his abilities, to use him. The elves have taught him only so he will serve them, and when this war is done, what then? They would abandon him. The Varden is simply making him into a mascot. But don't you see? I will teach him, in return I will want a few favors, but after that, he is free! I could give him everything he ever wanted. Those he is with, they are nothing."

"Murtagh, do you agree? Am I asking too much? I think that your fear of me confused you, and that is to be expected. Trust me though, I am a Dragon Rider, I think I would know what is best for him. You know how I feel; I want to rebuild the Riders! Your brother and his dragon are the key. And the truth, if we die, where will the dragons come from? Ours are the last, and Eragon is bound to kill us. It is madness, if he does as the elves and Varden want then he condemns the race of dragons to extinction."

Murtagh always found himself somewhat lost when Galbatorix spoke to him. His voice was a sweet song that trilled from a bird. It drew him in and transfixed him. When it was evident that Galbatorix was not going to punish him, Murtagh gave in to the sensation. How grateful he was to this man.

Galbatorix understood him! Eragon was his mortal foe, but still his brother. Murtagh couldn't help but want to protect him, and Galbatorix knew it. The King was forgiving him for failure, it was too good.

"Your brother is confused, Murtagh. You know it, I know it, but the problem is that he doesn't. Eragon needs your help Murtagh." Galbatorix took Murtagh's hands. "Those rebels have brainwashed him. It's our duty, as Dragon Riders to help him. Please, Murtagh, help me to help him."

"You won't hurt him?" Murtagh couldn't hide the question.

Galbatorix smiled sadly. "Never intentionally. Every now and again he might need some incentive to study or learn, but after everything those elves taught him, it must be expected."

Murtagh shook his head up and down. "I am sorry I have failed you, my lord."

"You never fail me, Murtag." Galbatorix chimed. "Now, run along and fetch Thorn. You two deserve a long nights rest after all your escapades on the battle field."

Murtagh bowed his head and dashed out the door. Galbatorix shook his head back and fourth. _He is as pliable as his father. A few fancy words and he's mine. _

_ The same with the little red one, _Shruikan chuckled. _It will be the younger brother you'll have to work on. Murtagh was so starved of love that you taking the place of his father was simple child's play, but Eragon needs a beating. _

_ Don't be so harsh, my friend,_ Galbatorix snickered. _Remember, he is _so_ confused!_

_ You are wise, but do you not worry that Murtag will see your affection for what it is?_ Shruikan asserted.

_No, I think Murtagh will continue to serve me. The more care I show him the more he believes. Also, I imagine, he wants his brother, and I am offering to help him._

_Speaking of the Runt Rider, _Shruikan said using the name he had given Eragon, _how do you plan to take him? _

_ Eragon and his dragon are right where we want them._ Galbatorix sent a messenger to seek out one of his servants. _Separated from everything he needs. The elves are far enough away that if we attack our little boy Eragon will be simply too late._

_ I do not think that we have the power to destroy the elves just yet,_ Shruikan grumbled.

_No, you're quite right, we don't, but we do have the power to take from them something I long for. _A vision of an elf passed over his minds eye.

_You think that you could capture her? I highly doubt-_ The conversation ended asGalbatorix started when the doors opened.

"You called for me, Master?"

A woman entered the throne room. Her eyes flashed with minor annoyance as she stalked forth. Red, glimmering hair swung back and forth dramatically. Adorned in a simple flowing gown, the woman bowed to her master thoughtfully.

"Oh, yes," Galbatorix chuckled, "I have just the thing to tend to that aching of yours, Illena."

Illena's eyes sparkled hoping what she had always wanted was coming true. "You do?"

"How would you and that partner of yours like to tie up a loose end for me?" Galbatorix knew the answer before she said it. Illena had been locked up in his tower for who knew how long. It was time to introduce her to the world.

"Oh, oh Father what is it!" Illena cried, overjoyed.

"Daughter," Galbatorix said soothingly, "I want you and Fang to bring me something. It will be hard-pressed to find, and undoubtedly, well protected. Still, you have spent all your life under me learning. It is time to test you."

"Give me anything, I will find it," Illena immediately replied.

"I want you to go to Ellesmera, enter unseen and undetected, and fetch for me a certain person there. She will be most hard to find and apprehend, sadly, you can not kill her." Galbatorix grinned at his daughter's amazement.

"Who?" Illena was practically bursting with anticipation.

Galbatorix chuckled warmly. "The Queen, of course."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Eragon lay still on his small cot. His body felt as if he were being compressed by some huge stone. He was Morzan's son! The weight of such a horrible truth was crushing him. How could this be true? He fought against everything that his father, and now, his brother, was. What cruel mix of irony and fate was this?

_You are too worried, little one,_ Saphira cooed. _Why do you think that this will change you? _

_ Because it does,_ Eragon snapped childishly. _How will I face Galbatorix? The elves? _

_ You will go before them as always; just because your name has changed doesn't mean you have. _Saphira murmured into his thoughts. When Eragon remained stubborn and glum she snarled fitfully into his mind. _Do you think I would have chosen you were you destined for such evil? Do you doubt my judgment as much as your own? _

_ You are part of me, Saphira, _Eragon replied closing his eyes, _perhaps your judgment has gone askew due to my presence. _

_ Yes, and maybe you'll sprout wings and start breathing fire, the point is that you are Morzan's _son_ not Morzan. _Saphira stamped her feet outside Eragon's tent irritably. _Now, stop being a lazy malcontent and come out!_

_ Yes, mother,_ Eragon chided.

Getting dressed itself was a challenge to overcome. All his battle ware was piled in the corner and it reminded him forcefully of the secret he had learned on the Burning Plains. Focusing his eyesight elsewhere, Eragon found his clothes. As soon as he pulled his pants on, Eragon realized with regret that he didn't have a sword anymore. The empty place where his sheath had once hung seemed blatantly vacant.

_Hurry now, we haven't got all day; Galbatorix isn't going to wait for you! _Saphira cried again.

Grumbling, Eragon stepped out of his tent only to come face to face with stunning green eyes. Jumping back, surprised, Eragon managed to regain control, and found himself staring into Arya's impassive face. She studied him for a moment, as if he were some exotic animal.

"Arya," Eragon mumbled, pinning his gaze to the ground, "I didn't expect you here."

"I expected you," she observed quietly. "A council is going to be held to plan our next move on Galbatorix; you are supposed to be there."

"I heard." Speaking with Arya had become quite a trial. Eragon couldn't forget how he felt, and more so, how little she felt. It made his heart ache just to stand in her presence.

_Careful now, little one,_ Saphira trilled. She scooted closer to Eragon and Arya making it evident that she wanted to be part of the conversation. Eragon grinned and patted her scales.

"Well, thank-you Arya," Eragon managed to crow.

_Can we offer you a ride?_ Saphira asked before Eragon could quickly fly away. Arya tilted her head to the side, interested in the prospect.

"I have never ridden on dragon back, is it fun?" She reached out and stroked the saddle on Saphira's back.

"It's- well it's something," Eragon commented, not going into all the amazing ambiance of flying.

"I accept," Arya murmured, bowing her head.

In minutes Eragon and Arya were strapped into the saddle awaiting Saphira's action. As always, there was a moment when they first took off that Eragon felt the whole world drop, but then it was like the sweetest sensation. Feeling the wind stream through his hair was relaxing, and being able to gaze down on the world seemed to push away all his worries. Here was where he belonged.

Arya though, did not seem to make such a connection. She sat behind Eragon, and at the first dive into the air she had clung to him. Since then, it seemed, she wasn't quite ready to let him go. Clutching nervously, Arya would catch a peek over the side of Saphira's flank then hide away. Eragon couldn't conceal the smile that played on his lip.

The second they had landed, Arya had dropped from the saddle with as much grace as she could conjure. Eragon followed, sighing at the sight of the tent. Inside he was no longer Eragon the farmhand, the boy. He was a Dragon Rider, a warrior, a leader. So many people looked up to him, sought him for help. What did they see in him? At least, he thought, none of them know my secret.

Pushing aside the flaps of the door, Eragon entered the dimly lit tent. He was surprised at the number of people in the room. So few, had that many died? Orik, Jormundur, Nasuada, Orrin, Arya, and a few other minor generals were crowding around a table. As soon as Eragon made himself clearer Roran emerged from the darkness. Saphira stuck her head into the tent as well.

"You've arrived," Nasuada commented, her voice was as flat as Eragon had ever heard. She knew his secret: she knew who he was, _what_ he was.

"Yes," Orrin burst in, "we were just discussing our battle tactic for…well you!"

"Me?" Eragon blenched. "I had no idea I was the topic of the day." No matter how he tried, Eragon could not keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Orik quickly picked up on the matter, even if he didn't know why. "I was thinking, you had best complete your training now that a new Rider is out there." Orik wanted nothing better than to see that Murtagh was killed in the most brutal way possible. He needed Eragon to finish his training, even if it meant going back to the elves.

"Is that the best course of action?" Jormundur asked critically. "We need him here, what if we are attacked again?"

"What good will Eragon be if he can't fight?" Orik demanded. "No offense Eragon, but that Rider was good, real good, and you need to complete what it was you were learning."

"Speaking of," Orrin exclaimed, "what _were_ you learning?"

For a moment, Eragon had the urge to strike Orrin, but he quickly gained control over himself. "I hardly see how that matters, seeing as you're not a Dragon Rider." Saphira snorted in agreement.

"A secret, eh?" Orrin laughed. "Well, I suppose you can keep those secrets to yourself, that's what the elves do, leastways." Orrin cast a suspicious glance at Arya.

"What is your plan?" Eragon asked directly to Nasuada.

"Well, you must complete your training, no doubt, but I still wish for some form of protection here. You can't just up and leave us," she laughed.

"Islanzadi is sending elvish spell casters here as we speak," Arya asserted, "they will be here by weeks end."

"It's certainly not as good as a Dragon Rider," Orik grumbled, "but better than anything."

For some time Roran had remained silent. Without hesitation, he finally spoke out. "Wait, Eragon has promised to help me before he leaves. Once he's gone I doubt I'll get the assistance I need."

"What's all this about?" Orrin demanded, outraged at the request. "Why should Eragon have to stay here? Who are you?"

"Roran," Eragon said speedily, "is my cousin. I said I would help him."

"Help him do what?" Arya asked, her brows furrowing.

Eragon had wished to keep this more private. The less his leaders knew the better. They were going to try and stop him from fulfilling his original quest. Kicking at the dirt, Eragon faced Arya.

"His bride-to-be was taken by the Ra'zac, and it was partially my fault. I have to help him."

"And," Jormundur asked, "what would this 'help' entail?"

"Killing the Ra'zac," Eragon said hesitantly.

Silence greeted this last remark, but only for a moment. "Are you insane?" Orrin snarled. "What if you were defeated? What if you were killed?"

"What if you were captured?" Arya piped up.

"Minor risks," Eragon scoffed.

"I don't care if it's the risk of a paper cut," Nasuada snapped, "you're not going."

Roran muttered something under his breath. Eragon just stared down his liege lord. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and her mouth formed a straight line.

"He needs me," Eragon growled. "It's my fault!"

"What is her life measured against thousands?" Arya said hurriedly. "You are too valuable to be lost.

"Ah," Eragon said, relying heavily on his anger at Nasuada to fuel his argument, "so what you're saying is that my life is more important than her's?"

Before Arya could respond in a kind, Nasuada cut in. "I'm sorry Eragon, but it's my final say."

"Then her life is forfeit?" Roran demanded.

"I do not think that Galbatorix wants her dead," Orik grunted. "It seems like she is just the bait set in a trap."

"I don't care," Roran cried. "She still being held prisoner, who knows what they're doing to her!"

As Roran said this, Arya's face darkened. Eragon caught sight of this quickly. Roran went off again, but Eragon held up his hand to stop this. Roran, thinking Eragon was about to defend him, became silent. Eragon though, had other thoughts.

"I won't go, at least not yet. When I complete my training, I _will _rescue her, but for now you are right." Eragon could just see out of the corner of his eye Roran's mouth drop.

"I had hoped you would agree," Nasuada sighed. "Now, as for the rest of our plan…"

_Why did you do that, Eragon? _Saphira asked quizzically, but with no sense of anger.

_They were right. I can't compromise all the hopes and lives of these people for my cousin._ Eragon sighed._ I wish I could just be normal again. This life is so different, why can't I enjoy life, help those I love, do something daring? _

_ That is the price you must pay, Eragon. _Saphira whispered knowingly. _You are bound to this fate, and though it may seem cold and hard you will find it most rewarding. _

_ No, I won't,_ Eragon remarked. _I never have the chance to just be what I am. I am always watching now, never a moment of peace. Must I surrender everyone I love to gain everything?_

"Eragon," Nasuada said, splicing the connection he had with Saphira, "do you understand? You will go back the elves to finish your training, you will probably have to leave tomorrow if you want to make it back to the dwarf cities, we will send messengers to gather you and the rest of the elvish armies when we have a ready plan."

"Alright, all I have to do is pack. Will Orik be coming with me, as a guard?" Eragon asked presently.

"No, no," Orik said darkly, "I have matters to attend to with the King. Arya will be going with you."

A pit formed in Eragon's chest. Traveling with Arya, was this another cruel twist of fate? Why was he always being pitted against something? Just to be around her made him feel somewhat foolish, but to be in her company for days, alone? Eragon left the tent once the meeting was finished. He met with Saphira outside and mounted her.Saphira had been silent for a long time since his final question. Her voice, when it returned was soft and depressing, almost frightening. _To your question Eragon, because that is the price of this cause. When all is truly gained, then all is truly lost._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The darkness seeped into the room as the last candles flickered out. The gloom seemed to press down on the lone figure as she strode toward her bed. Passing under flickering shadows that the moonlight cast, she came to a rest on the large, four-poster bed. Outside, great clouds began to cover the moon and stars light. Not even an elf could see through the blanket over the skies.

Islanzadi gave a shudder as she curled up under the cold, lifeless blankets. Everything seemed so different here. There was a noticeable hole in her life that was represented by the space unoccupied on the other side of her bed. Such a depressing place to sleep should not be allowed.

Still, even in utter darkness Islanzadi thrived. She loved to see nothing but the impenetrable night. In the dark it is easy to pretend…pretend that her life was not fraught with misery and despair…pretend that Evandar was still alive…that her and her daughter were still like one.

Oh, how she longed for her mate, Evandar. He had always been there in her moment of need. A hand to help cope with all her problems. Even his voice, she would give anything to hear it one more time. But, all her longing in the world couldn't bring him back from where he was. It hurt, but she'd been hurt before

For a single moment, Islanzadi was positive that a flicker of a shadow had crossed her room, but everything was still when she blinked again. Still, Islanzadi was never one to be rash. Carefully, she removed a small, stout dagger from her bedside table and placed it under her pillow.

With a sigh, the queen flipped over in her bed to face the door. If only she had seen the tall, slim form slink from its hiding place by her window she might have made use of the dagger. A crumpling sound came pounding in her ears: carpet under the foot of a trespasser. She spun around to face the sound and sat up. Nothing. No-thing.

Just as she was about to lie back down a strange presence gripped her mind. It was as if someone was placing a captivating net over her thoughts; something to stop her from sending help. Fear erupted in her and she tried desperately to push away the attack. Too late! The vision of a blade wielding arm came into view. As soon as she had seen it, the blade was at her throat.

Just the slightest gurgle came from Islanzadi, but her assailant reacted like a snake. Produced from her cloak, the attacker drew a thick wad of cloth and shoved it in Islanzadi's mouth.

Whoever it was laughed horribly. "Pretty little birds don't sing at night, do they?"

Islanzadi shivered when the voice echoed in her ears. She was dealing with another woman. Steeling herself against the icy feeling of a blade at her neck, Islanzadi stealthily slipped the dagger from its hiding place under her pillow.

A flash of silver, and Islanzadi was free from her captor. Ripping the cloth out of her mouth, she tossed it aside and made for the door. Something sliced her leg just below the knee and she toppled forward. The woman was at her again. This time she forced her blade to the elf's upper throat where she pricked the skin. Islanzadi saw how helpless she was without a blade, but she was still an elf, she still had magic.

Raising her hand, Islanzadi shouted, "Bringsinger!"

A flame exploded from her palm at the foe. Smirking, Islanzadi got up and once more, made for the door. She stopped dead though when the other woman caught the ball of fire and shrank it to fit in her palm with a few muttered words.

"How did-"

Islanzadi never finished for the woman tossed the ball back to her, but when the Queen reached to stop the fire, it exploded. A line a fire raced around in a circle, trapping Islanzadi in it. The woman walked forward, obviously enjoying her captive's imprisonment. How good control felt!

"Tsk, tsk pretty little bird; if you don't play nice I'll have to lock you up." Brandishing her blade, the woman strutted forth. "Do us a favor, will you?" she asked, tossing the wad of cloth into the circle of fire.

Islanzadi caught the cloth and stared at it. Who was this woman? What was her motive? How did she manage to get here? The elf glared back up at the woman. Flicking her finger, the flames danced closer to Islanzadi. What kind of person would be so demeaning that she would make her own captive silence themselves? When the Queen refused to gag herself the flames grew and singed her gown.

"Come now, elf," she spat the last word, "put the gag in your mouth. I haven't got all day; you and I have a schedule to keep."

The flames came dangerously close to Islanzadi when she finally gave in. How horrible it felt to be helpless. This must have been what her daughter had felt when Durza took her. Gazing at the ring of fire, Islanzadi noted the cruel symmetry. A sinking sensation took her, was she that easily captured?

Rebellion fueled Islanzadi forth. Gathering all that was left of her willpower, Islanzadi took one breath and shouted. She cried for help with such force that the woman jumped in surprise.

The flames died down almost at once. In the distance Islanzadi could hear soldiers attend to her call. The woman, though, wasn't done yet. She cast a bolt at the door that seemed to reinforce it, and then she pulled Islanzadi to her knees before her.

"What did I say about little birds?" she snarled.

"Well," Islanzadi said, tilting her head playfully, "I suppose it's a good thing I'm not a bird." Islanzadi stood up quickly only to be struck in the face. She had never been struck in the face, and the experience was altogether new to her.

"You're not out of this yet," snapped the woman. "We just have a change of plans." Taking the cloth, she forced it into Islanzadi's mouth and dragged her away.

A pounding was heard on the room doors, the soldiers had arrived. Islanzadi spun around to see it, only to feel bands lock around her arms with some spell. _Oh, hurry, please! _Islanzadi begged.

They sped out onto the private garden Islanzadi had. The door burst open just as they fled the room. Islanzadi struggled as much as she could, but the woman just pulled her along with amazing strength.

"Ready to fly, little bird?" the woman asked terribly.

Now that they were outside, the little light provided by the clouded moon gave an image to Islanzadi's attacker. She could be described in one word: beautiful. Her long red hair swung wildly from side to side. Her eyes, though frightening, were sparkling with intelligence, and her face was like a porcelain doll. She wore pants and a loose tunic, and stared madly at the sky.

_Where are the soldiers?_ Islanzadi screamed in her mind. Whatever it was that they were waiting for would soon be here.

As if they could read her mind, the men scampered into the gardens following they're queen. Each shot what seemed like a volley of arrows at the intruder. All the elves paused to see whether their arrows hit the mark.

_Kill her, kill this horrible woman!_ Islanzadi pleaded to the men.

No such luck could be found. The arrows whizzed toward the woman, but just before they reached her, her hand shot up. The arrows stopped mid-air as if they were turned to stone.

_No!_ Islanzadi cried, _Help me, stop her!_

Laughing, the woman cried, "Bringsinger!" A whip made of pure fire flashed through the air and struck the elves. Holding Islanzadi by her hair, she forced her head up. "Did you think I few elves could stop me? You fool, your race is weak!"

Islanzadi sunk to the ground in bitter sorrow. _No,_ she moaned, _someone help…_

A large shadow passed over her vision. All the light from the clouded sky vanished. Arching her head up, Islanzadi saw a great winged form stretch over the sky. A long neck and lashing tail swept in the moonlight.

_This can't be._ Islanzadi quailed under the dragon. _How did Galbatorix get another rider?_

"Surprised, my little bird?" the woman asked.

The dragon alighted not far from them on a patch of roses. Another group of elves had arrived, but Islanzadi knew it was pointless. The elves just stopped like stones and stared in amazement at the emerald dragon before them.

The woman took Islanzadi by her long black tresses and forced her onto the saddle. Lashing her to the saddle, the Dragon Rider struck her again for good measure. Another volley of arrows sped toward them, but the dragon just pushed off the ground and dove skyward. More arrows followed, but Islanzadi knew it was too late, she was lost.

Moaning, Islanzadi strained against the ropes that bound her. She didn't care if she was dead, it was better than with this Dragon Rider. Alas, the ropes didn't budge, and Islanzadi was trapped with her captor.

_Someone, anyone…please, help!_ Islanzadi cried mentally. She knew it was pointless, but she would try all the more. From below, the elves in Ellesmera watched in despair as a rouge Dragon Rider escaped with their queen.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Islanzadi didn't know how long she had been seated on the dragon when they finally landed. The air whooshed around her lifting her hair as the dragon thumped on the ground. Islanzadi strained her weak body against the bindings. The only effect was that the ropes tightened around her wrists making them bleed slightly. The rider dismounted and severed the ropes holding the elf.

The Queen almost fell off the dragon having no good balance. She began to look despondently at her surroundings. It seemed as if they were on the edge of the Hadarac Desert. There were a few looming trees, but nothing that seemed to provide protection against the elements. A dry wind blew past them picking up sand and depositing it somewhere else. The sun was beginning to sink leaving the sky a deep red, the color of blood.

_Where is she taking me?_ Islanzadi thought, feeling the dark press around her.

A snap and a crackle followed the Queen's question as a fire was struck. The woman knelt over it wearily, breathing on it. She enjoyed fire, Islanzadi decided. As if sensing she was watching, the Dragon Rider raised her head and eyed the elf with utter contempt. Lifting her hand, she made a summoning motion. A powerful force picked Islanzadi up and threw her ten feet. Landing before the fire, Islanzadi struggled to get up backing away from the flame.

Glaring up, Islanzadi found the Dragon Rider's eyes sparkle with horrible glee. Reaching toward the fire, she dove her hand in and drew it back holding a small ball of dancing flames. She began to wave it madly before Islanzadi. Islanzadi scampered away, but not before an invisible rope pulled her back in front of the fire wielding Dragon Rider.

"Is the pretty little bird afraid of the fire?" the woman asked drawing nearer to the elf. "She doesn't want to play?"

The flames grew in size as the terrible woman came closer. Islanzadi could move nowhere, the magical leash was holding fast. Sparks began to jump at the elf. One escaped flame caught Islanzadi's gown and burnt a hole in her dress and then in her flesh. Smoke filled Islanzadi's nostrils and she started to choke.

"Go away!" snarled Islanzadi shooing the Dragon Rider toward her dragon. "Do you enjoy tormenting others?"

"Only you," laughed the woman. "It makes my day."

The green dragon rose furiously and circled behind his rider. Even though he was a horrible corrupted beast, Islanzadi couldn't tear her eyes away from the emerald he was made of. She wanted to reach out and stroke the jewels of his skin, but fear of pulling back a stump instead of a hand kept her away.

"Where are you taking me?" Islanzadi asked presently, deciding that it would be best to know where she was going, though, she already had a slight idea.

"Back to the King," the woman responded lightly. She sat down at the belly of the green dragon and reclined against it.

Searching her eyes, Islanzadi could tell that this woman wanted nothing more than to kill her. Why put up with the nonsense she would be sure to cause? Why not just end her life now? Digging her fingers in the ground, the elf queen gazed away longingly.

"Why don't you kill me?" Islanzadi asked shrewdly.

"The King wants you alive," she asserted.

"But you don't," Islanzadi pointed out.

"Oh, no, I want to see you suffer." The Dragon Rider closed her eyes as if recalling some happy memory. "This is just another test, and I won't fail."

"Do you always do as the King says?" Islanzadi couldn't keep the skepticism out of her voice.

"Yes, and soon, you will too, little bird," the woman snickered. "You think that just because you are older than he that you will endure longer? Think not! Your race, all of them, is weak and brittle, and their queen will be the first to fall." Looking up with scorn she added, "I'll make sure of it."

"Who are you to make such threats?" Islanzadi questioned, keeping her tongue in check; it wouldn't do to be beaten for failure to control her temper.

"Who am I?" the woman asked, gazing pensively into the fire. "You may refer to me as Illena."

_Illena? Illena who? Does she have a father or a mother? Is her family still alive? How is it possible that a Dragon Rider was born and raised without our knowledge? _Islanzadi wondered over the many questions racing through her mind.

"How long have you been in service to the King?" Islanzadi picked up a small stone and studied it.

Illena laughed thoughtfully remembering something her mother had once said when she was still alive. "Longer than then, shorter than now."

"That's not a very good answer," Islanzadi snorted.

"Why do you think you deserve one?" Illena rose threateningly. "I think it's about time you took a lesson, little bird." The flame in her eyes danced menacingly, but Islanzadi, who had seen more horrors than this young girl didn't stray at all.

Suddenly, Islanzadi felt her whole body lifted off the ground and held in place by an unseen band. Illena once more summoned a flame into her palm and drew closer to Islanzadi. Her eyes sparkled as the flames first burned the elf's fair, pale skin. Creeping away instinctively, Islanzadi tried to shield herself from the inevitable. Illena let the blaze play on Islanzadi's skin, branding both her body and reserve.

_How much of this can I take?_ Islanzadi worried, not that she would be so easily broken, but more that she didn't know her bodies limits, or for that matter, Illena's limits.

A spark dove onto Islanzadi's face creating a burn mark on her cheek the width of a fingernail. Blinking away tears that stung her eyes, Islanzadi forced herself to remain as impassive as possible. Illena saw the struggle between standing strong and giving in cloud over the elf's eyes.

_How easy,_ Illena told Fang, _it is to use fire to torment someone. By the time I get her back home she'll cower just at the mention of the word! _

_ Be cautious, _Fang warned, _use fire on the elf too much and she'll try and retaliate. You know what your father said; it just takes a small touch here or there. Invoke the fear, don't force it. _

_ Alright, alright,_ Illena muttered, feeling like a scolded child. She returned her attention to Islanzadi.

"So my pretty little bird, did you enjoy my little test? Did you learn your lesson?" Illena hissed.

Islanzadi refused to answer. She turned are face away stubbornly, and stared off into the distance wishing she were there and not here. How her body ached! Every inch of her screamed for a release. Still, she would never show Illena these pains and longings. It was a test of wills, and she was determined to win.

"Speak!" Illena demanded. "Sing, little bird."

Islanzadi straightened her back at once. Turning to face her tormenter, Islanzadi bit her lip and then spit in Illena's face. A low, rumble emitted from Fang, and Illena widened her eyes in surprise. Had that elf just spit at her?

"You ungrateful little wench! How dare you even think to defile me?" Illena raged. "You think that this is a game, little bird?" Grabbing Islanzadi by the chin and forcing the elf to stare into her eyes, she asked again, "Answer me, do you think this is a game?"

"I will _not_ play the obedient servant to an unappreciative, horrible, cruel Dragon Rider," Islanzadi stated coolly.

Illena swung around and stalked a few feet away, her spell still holding Islanzadi in place. Fang drew just a little nearer to block any escape, if one could have been found. Islanzadi just waited knowing that soon she would be punished.

"Alright," Illena said with a horrible grin, "you needn't play the servant." Spinning on her heels, Illena mustered a whip made completely of fire out of thin air. "You may play the pitiful, little elf-slave who cowers at my feet when I draw near!"

The whip flashed in the air and struck Islanzadi across the face. Such pain the Queen had never felt. She staggered back as much as the spell allowed. The whip lashed out again, this time it stung her back. Once more the whip lit up and found Islanzadi's fragile body. The torture seemed endless as Islanzadi was subjugated to a flaming thrashing. It could have been minutes, it could have been days. When it was done though, Islanzadi's knees gave way, being released from the spell, and she crumpled to ground.

Illena approached with that same terrible smile. She stroked a whip which had now decreased in size. "I know it hurts, my bird, but this is something you must be taught. You must understand respect, and pain will be your teacher…" Illena gazed away as if saddened by Islanzadi's predicament. "…If there were any other way, I would have preferred it, but you, being an elf, can't be reasoned with the same way civilized humans are. Your race must be controlled with the mighty fist of repression. Only once you learn to be grateful for such small things such as the freedom to act at one owns leisure will you understand." Islanzadi stared up at Illena, horror-stricken. "Elves don't know freedom, but they will see. When they no longer have it, they will see…They will be appreciative…"

Illena looked down upon the elf. Islanzadi gawked back somewhat frightened. Illena reached out and stroked Islanzadi's long dirtied hair, almost lovingly. Flinching away, Islanzadi could just hear Illena's next words. "Time to put the little bird back in her cage, hmm?"

With the force of a hurricane wind, a long line of fire raced to form a small box about the elf. She soon found herself trapped within a tiny cell that reacted to her every movement. If she tried to move close to the fire it blazed higher and nearer to her. Seeing herself lost, Islanzadi curled up on the rough ground and closed her eyes trying to find an escape sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry, it's kind of short. But, it's more a transititon chapter than anything else.

Chapter Five

Eragon was skimming the earth beneath him as the sharp air draft carried him and Saphira higher. The breeze made his eyes water and his lips crack, but it was so liberating to be soaring high above the madness of the world. Eragon closed his eyes and thought of nothing but the sweet caress of the wind on his body. Eragon knew that if he just stopped thinking and never opened his eyes he could be lost here.

_We need to land soon,_ Saphira commented, lurching to the ground a little. _You said that we had to leave soon._

_ I know,_ Eragon grumbled, _I just like to be up here. Can't we just circle the camp one more time? _

_No,_ Saphira said flatly, _we must land and bid our farewells. Plus, you have one last promise to attend to. _

_ Elva._ Eragon shivered just to say the name. The task ahead was so daunting that he quailed to think of it. But, this was his own fault, and he had promised to heal her. No matter his own problems Eragon could not rest until the cursed girl was made well. _Let's go then, I do want to hurry this along a little._

Saphira swooped toward the ground letting her wings close making her body more streamline. The sensation at first was sickening, but now Eragon it was just like falling onto a bed. Saphira pulled up at the last second and produced Eragon to the entrance to Elva's tent.

Eragon entered the cool shade vigilantly. He didn't want to be faced once more by those stunning violet eyes that held all, that knew all. Bitterly, he recalled that _he _had made them that way. All that girl was, or was proving to be was his fault.

"So you decide to show up, Rider?"

Eragon spun about and noticed that Angela was seated at a table staring him down, arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to look stubborn. But, Eragon could just see in her eyes a flash of hope that he would be able to heal Elva.

"My apologies on my delay, but I have been somewhat preoccupied over the last few days," Eragon said clamping his hands behind his back.

"Cut the fancy talk and get to work!" Angela snapped, and then directed her attention to the bed.

There she was. Elva sat static on the cot; her eyes seemed to glow as they alighted on Eragon. Her breathing was so slow, it seemed like she could just vanish into thin air. She titled her head to the side, sizing up Eragon and wondering if he was capable of freeing her.

"Greetings, Elva," Eragon managed to mutter.

_Little one,_ Saphira snorted to all in the room.

"Hello, Dragon Rider. You have come, I suspect, to heal me?" She couldn't keep the slight sense of hope out of her voice.

"That would be why I'm here, yes," Eragon said smoothly.

"Is-is there anything I have to do?" Elva asked, her eyes shining.

"Just relax," Eragon suggested, "this may take a while, or it may not. I have never preformed a spell of this magnitude." Seeing the worry on Elva's face Eragon added, "But I'm sure that it can be done."

Elva reclined onto the cot and closed her eyes. Eragon approached her cautiously keeping sure to train his eyes on her face. Casting one glance at Angela, who was watching with an intent scowl written on her face, he knelt by the bed.

_Saphira,_ Eragon sighed, _I am going to need your help. _

_ I shall always offer it, little one._

Eragon took a deep breath and whispered one simple word, "Slytha." Elva seemed to collapse even deeper into a trance, and Eragon was at least happy to see that Elva was perfectly asleep.

The next few minutes seemed to pass by without thought. Eragon didn't really know what exactly he was doing. He was only aware of the fact that Saphira was constantly adding small amounts of her own strength to that of Eragon's. Words slipped out of Eragon's mouth that he didn't know. Light began to spread from Eragon's palm and wrap around Elva like a restricting snake. She continued to breathe the same, but Eragon began to slip from consciousness. The world began to spin as the bright light roped about Elva. When the light began to restrict Eragon felt as dizzy as he ever had; his limbs were quaking and all the strength escaped from his body.

_Eragon…_

Even Saphira's warm voice seemed to drift away from him. The world was going black. The last thing Eragon saw was something fuzzy and fogged. Elva's body was aglow with a pale blue light. Her form was lifted a foot into the air. From her mouth escaped a ball the sapphire light the size of a plum. As it left her body, Elva landed back on the bed. The ball of light swelled in size, and then crackled and exploded. The blue light within burst and words began to echo in the air.

Eragon collapsed on the ground, his ears ringing with the ghostlike phrase: Atra gulai un ilian tauthr ono un atra waise skolir fra rauthr.

* * *

"Is he alive…"

"Do you think he will wake…"

"When…"

_Eragon…Eragon, rise, say something, anything! _Saphira's voice bellowed in his head.

Stirring slightly, Eragon murmured "I'm awake" to the gathering crowd. Arya sat silent on the bed watching the young Dragon Rider with an unexpected worry. Angela, who tried to look pleased with herself, couldn't stop fretting that he was dieing. Orik was kneeling next to Eragon poking him occasionally with his stubby fingers. The blue head Saphira had pushed into the tent kept on admitting plumes of smoke. Only one person was smiling. Only one…

Elva was grinning from ear to ear, unable to contain any worry she may have held for Eragon. Her insides felt like they were jumping. Her head was no longer ringing with the thoughts of others too desperately depressed to care for life. She was free! Eragon had released her. True he had imprisoned her, but now she was free.

Hunger gnawed at her sides, but Elva wouldn't leave till the Dragon Rider was awake. She had to thank him first. It did seem very conceited to just depart without a word of gratitude.

Her eyes explored the room. Everything just seemed a little clearer. It was as though a veil had been lifted from her vision and she could finally see the world. Light seemed a slight bit brighter. Shadows a little less dark. And noises that resounded in her ears a little more joyous.

"Is he alright?" Elva asked, jumping from the bed.

"You don't seem the least bit worried," Orik commented shrewdly.

"And why should she be?" demanded Angela. "Eragon's in this state at his own fault. Let the girl just enjoy herself; you have no idea what she's been through!"

Muttering something about respect, Orik turned his attention to the most apt spell caster in the room. "Arya, do you think he's alright?"

After a moment of thought she answered, "Yes, he will be. I just wished Eragon would have told me he was planning this." As she said it, Arya cast Saphira a hurt expression. Not that she felt any true betrayal, but Arya thought she could guilt trip the dragon into an answer.

Saphira gave Arya a most surprising answer. One, since that day, Arya never forgot. The dragon's voice held a slight anger as she spoke. _We had no reason to suspect that our telling you would have changed anything. Our thoughts are our own, Arya._

Startled by such a reproachful retort, Arya became silent understanding the dragon's meaning. Eragon and Saphira obviously felt this was their fault and didn't need _her_ there to watch them. The irony of the comment became quite clear as Arya recalled the moment in time when she had told Eragon the same thing about her mother.

Eragon could just hear the mutterings of Orik as he struggled to stay conscious. His vision was becoming better and the outlines of people and things were becoming more defined.

_Saphira? _

_ Eragon,_ Saphira breathed in relief, _how do you feel?_

_ Horrible, how long was I out for?_ Eragon forced himself to sit up straight to the cries of respite from everyone in the room. Still, Saphira's voice was the only sound he cared to hear.

_Half an hour at best. You used quite a large amount of energy; even with my aid you were barely able to contain the spell. _Saphira shuffled her wings outside the tent somewhat ashamed of her failing strength.

"Elva?" The first word out of Eragon's mouth tasted strange and took him much concentration to pronounce. "Is Elva better?"

"I must say, Elva is," Elva laughed as she stepped through the ring of onlookers to greet Eragon. "Elva is better than ever before."

A sigh of release left Eragon's mouth. He had done it! Cured her, made amends with his own demons. She grinned at him and shook his hand.

"I hate to leave you all so soon, but I'm starving," Elva giggled, giddy as a new born foal. "Thank-you Eragon, Shadeslayer."

"You're most welcome, if ever there is anything I can do, all you must do is ask," Eragon said straining to pull himself onto the bed. With the help of Orik, Eragon managed to sit upright on the cot to face Elva.

"There is one thing you can do…" Elva said slyly.

"That is?"

With a smile spreading over her face, Elva responded, "Never try to save my life again, please."

With that simple request, Elva turned on her heel and departed. Eragon watched her go half in amusement half in astonishment. Without the constant drag of other people's worries hanging on her, Elva was actually quite good-natured and funny, and hoped she would stay that way, even if it was not destined to be so.

_Saphira, _Eragon laughed, _will you take me home now? _

_ And where, _said Saphira with conviction, _is home but where you are right now?_


End file.
